


Between Old Friends

by highboys (orphan_account)



Category: Kuroko no Basket
Genre: Formalwear, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/highboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine, as always, is completely unhelpful with wedding preparations. Kuroko doesn't know if he appreciates the rare moments of help or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sapphylicious](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sapphylicious).



It's nearing sundown when Kuroko pushes the back door to the boutique open, and he slips past an assistant stowing away a rack of striped suits and half a dozen ties before he finds the rest of the wedding party -- or, at least, what remains of it. Aomine, already dressed in formal wear sans the jacket, is draped all over the love seat while Momoi's sister is flirting with the staff. Midorima is buttoning up his winter coat and wiping his glasses with his handkerchief, already finished with his fitting. Kuroko nods at him, and sits at the edge of the love seat, a few inches away from Aomine's socked feet.

"Oh, Tetsu-kun," says Momoi, surfacing from the stack of wedding catalogues and formal wear to gift him with a bright smile and a kiss on his cheek, "you just missed Akashi-kun! Midorima's getting ready to leave in a bit, and Murasakibara-kun will be coming in later."

Midorima snorts, like he doesn't believe in Murasakibara's capacity to show up early, much less on time. "You'd better wake the lumbering oaf behind you," says Midorima, loftily. "He's been asleep since we arrived."

Aomine's fingers twitch, like they're tempted to hit Midorima even in the last stages of REM. Kuroko pats his knee, and shakes his head at the creases on Aomine's pants. They're a little tight around Aomine's hips, and the position doesn't help the state of Aomine's borrowed clothing. "I'm not sure he'll be pleased if I do," says Kuroko.

Midorima and Momoi give him a _look_ , the same kind everyone and anyone has taken to aiming at him when Aomine is within a five meter radius, and Midorima rolls his eyes, a clear dismissal of Kuroko's tentative words.

Midorima says his farewells without causing much of a commotion (they've all tamed their eccentricities and their outbursts over the years, and Momoi is dead-set on milking Midorima's pockets for all their worth), leaving Momoi and the attendant to view a steady stream of gowns. Aomine stirs awake halfway through Momoi's indecision about feathers and floofy skirts, and he groans.

"Oh my god," says Aomine. "Aren't we going home yet?"

"Hello, Aomine-kun," says Kuroko. He knocks his elbow against Aomine's hip. "There are better ways to appear like you're interested."

"Who says I'm even interested in this farce," Aomine grumbles. "The only reason I'm here is because she wouldn't stop nagging me about going."

"You're my maid of honor," says Momoi, picking up a high heeled shoe and looking tempted to introduce it to Aomine's nose.

"I'm a guy," says Aomine. "I have a dick."

"Still my maid of honor."

"Tetsu, if you had any love for me at all, you'd kill me now."

"How about this one," the attendant interrupts, visibly terrified of any possible bloodshed in the shop. She holds up a monstrosity of lace and tulle.

"I'm not sure," says Momoi, touching her cheek. "The one with the tiny beads looked better on my figure. What do you think, Tetsu-kun?"

"Momoi-san looks lovely in everything she wears," says Kuroko.

Momoi smiles at him, but it's one with a little bite, like she's already at the end of her rope. "That's sweet, Tetsu-kun, and it's a very diplomatic answer."

"Which just means you're full of shit, Tetsu," Aomine translates.

"Can I look at the one with the flower sequins again," says Momoi, well-practiced at ignoring Aomine. "And Aomine, if you wrinkle your suit some more, I swear I'll work you so hard on Monday you'll vomit blood."

Aomine grimaces, but sits up anyway. His feet touch the line of Kuroko's spine, briefly; through his thin cotton shirt, Kuroko shivers, despite himself. Aomine sees it, and grins.

"So," says Aomine, leaning against Kuroko. His cheek brushes against Kuroko's ear. "What do you think of my suit?"

"It's very disheveled," says Kuroko. "And the waist coat is a little tight."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No," says Kuroko, looking at his nails. "I'm sure the alterations will suit you well."

Aomine sighs, and loosens his tie, charcoal-black and paisley-patterned. "I don't need a damn waist coat," he mutters. "She just wants to keep me in check when the reception rolls around."

"I don't want you to eat me out of house and home," says Momoi. "I already have Taiga for that, thanks."

"He's a rich brat anyway," says Aomine. "You think that after shelling out thousands of yen she'd cut us some slack and let us eat our fill. I'm taking back my money, Satsuki!"

"You haven't even given it yet, jerk!"

"And anyway," Aomine continues, tuning her out, "you're already married! Remember when I was your witness? Or was I just wallpaper in the city hall, huh?"

"That was a civil ceremony," says Momoi, making a face in the mirror. "It's only a formality. And wallpaper doesn't talk."

"Tell that to your lawyer," Aomine retorts.

"Dai-chaaan," says Momoi, "I can't believe _I'm_ saying this, but can't you shut up?"

"I'm hungry," says Aomine. He pushes the sleeve of his shirt back to his elbows, despite Momoi's squawk of protest and the attendant looking like death is finally warming over, and shakes his wrist at her. "Look at this, I'm all skin and bones, you better remember to feed me later!"

"Tetsu-kun," says Momoi, pinching the skin of her forehead, "will you please show Dai-chan the way to the dressing room so I can at least get my deposit back."

"Sure thing, Momoi-san," says Kuroko. He pulls Aomine up by the back of his collar, never mind that it does absolutely nothing save Aomine turning his head to the side and scoffing.

"You have no upper body strength, Tetsu," says Aomine. Kuroko blinks at him, and tugs harder. Aomine, contrary as always, lays back down and covers his face with a cushion.

"Oh," says Momoi, airily, "your suit is in the fitting room too, Tetsu-kun."

Aomine finally stands up. "I'll go come with him."

It's Aomine that pushes him into the fitting room with something resembling manic glee. True to Momoi's word, Kuroko's suit is waiting for him, neatly pressed and smelling like cheap fabric softener. Aomine waits outside as Kuroko hangs up his own t-shirt and his pants. The pants are easy to tug on, if a little loose around the waist, and the pleated dress shirt is starchy and stiff against his skin, but they fit, at least. The tuxedo jacket, he leaves on the hanger after trying it on; with it over his shirt, he can feel his perspiration stick to the cloth, and Momoi would probably prefer if his clothes were in tact and unsullied. He struggles with tie, a solid dark blue and silken, and it takes a few minutes more than expected before he finally raps at the door.

"I'm done," says Kuroko. "You can come in now."

He unlocks the door and opens it, Aomine poking his head cautiously inside. The grin he on his face is honest and open, and Kuroko tucks a finger into the knot of his tie and pulls at it, tightly.

"Well?" Kuroko says. "Do I pass your inspection?"

Aomine whistles, low and off-key. Kuroko quells the urge to crack a smile at that.

"Can't say you look better than I do," says Aomine, "but you look really good, Tetsu. The bridesmaids will be clawing each other for a dance with you."

"Thank you," says Kuroko. "I'm sure Momoi-san would be pleased to hear that."

"Screw what Satsuki thinks," Aomine says, grabbing Kuroko's hands to inspect them. "What the hell are those?"

"Momoi-san says they're studs," says Kuroko, drily as Aomine thumbs the metal and fixes his cuffs.

"I know I am, but that really doesn't explain anything at all," says Aomine.

Kuroko exhales, loudly, through his mouth. "Could you shut the door behind you, please? I think Momoi-san can see us all the way from the room."

It's amazing how Aomine's thought process construes that as a come on, because Aomine is flashing his teeth at him and backing him against the stool at the corner of the tiny space. It isn't as tight a fit as department store fitting rooms (and Kuroko isn't going to think about why he would even know that -- just, no), but Aomine is tall and takes up more space than he gives Kuroko, content to press against him and nose at his jaw.

"What are you doing," says Kuroko, flatly.

"What does it look like," says Aomine. "I'm trying to get you out of your suit."

"Isn't it proper form to take me out to dinner first," says Kuroko. He raises his hand, letting his knuckles graze Aomine's cheek.

"Later," Aomine promises, turning to nip at Kuroko's fingers. "And it'll be on Satsuki's tab, just wait."

Aomine fumbles with the fastener of Kuroko's pants, pushes his zipper down with shaking fingers. Kuroko is half hard, under Aomine's touch, his legs awkwardly propped against the side of the stool. His pants don't even make it past his knees, his underwear unceremoniously casing his hips.

"You could at least do something with your mouth, Aomine-kun," says Kuroko. Aomine rolls his eyes and acquiesces, his mouth surprisingly soft and coaxing, a counterpoint to the urgency of his strokes, the way he grinds against Kuroko until Kuroko groans and catches Aomine's lower lip, sucks on it until it comes up red and swollen.

"God," says Aomine, pulling his mouth back, "I can't breathe like this and you're too loud, Tetsu."

Kuroko's cheeks color, dusted with red from the heat and embarrassment. "I'm not loud."

"Tell that to the receptionist jacking off in the lobby," says Aomine, undoing the knot on Kuroko's tie. He pulls the cloth off and unceremoniously pushes it to Kuroko's lips. "Open up."

Kuroko considers taking a more belligerent stance, but Aomine's fingers are tight around his cock and his limbs are too wired, too hypersensitive to resist. Aomine thumbs at his cock, pumps it with more fervency than grace, and like this, with too-little air, too-little skin and too-much clothing, too much sweat, Kuroko's climax is slow to come, cresting in discomfort and peaking only at the sight of Aomine's face, his eyes shut tightly and his mouth a bitten slash of red.

When it's over, Kuroko feels unclean, boneless. Aomine wipes them both down with a handkerchief, likely stolen from Momoi. He pushes Kuroko's bangs back, so he can see his eyes.

"There now," says Aomine, pressing their foreheads together. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Aomine pulls the cloth out of Kuroko's mouth and holds him until he stops shivering from -- nerves, excitability, anything. Kuroko bites his tongue, still tasting the fabric. He'll never get it dry before handing it back to the attendant. He wonders if the silk is ruined now, if he can pocket it and return it later to Momoi discreetly. He wonders what she would say.

"You should leave first," says Kuroko, finally. He pulls his pants down until they lay in a pile on the floor, and he takes down his own from the hook. Aomine stands, awkwardly, a scant foot away. "Momoi-san might notice."

Aomine snorts, tucking his shirt out and zipping up his pants. "Yeah, in case you didn't get it, she was probably going for this from the start."

"Aomine-kun," says Kuroko, still not looking at him. "Just go."

"Yeah, yeah," says Aomine, glaring at the door. "I get it."

He doesn't bother to wait for Kuroko to gain some semblance of propriety before he unlocks the door. He flings it open, and thankfully the hall outside is empty of customers or workers. Kuroko frowns at him, but says nothing.

"We should do this again next time," says Aomine, yanking on his shoes.

"Maybe not," says Kuroko, shortly. He throws Aomine's jacket at him, and Aomine catches it with a smirk.

"What's a secret between old friends, right," says Aomine, cheekily, and he's out of the door before Kuroko can do more than nod.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a reason I didn't put Kise in here, and it mostly has to do with an earlier fic brain fart of mine with Kise being the beleaguered wedding planner that falls in love with Kuroko and -- I'll stop now because this is supposed to be Aokuro to make Sapphy happy on her birthday. ∩( ・ω・)∩ SO I GUESS THIS IS THE START OF A WEDDING SERIES NOW???
> 
> Also this may or may not be edited at a later date, depending on my laziness/mood. SORRY ABOUT THE RUSHED SEX.


End file.
